Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1887-08-19

| It has not been so many months ago
since [ was sitting hurrying through my
dinner, in order to fill an appointment. 1t
| was to meet friend at the depot. He
was coming to meet me at the rate of
| thirty miles an hour, dressed in the same
evening costume had so often seen, with
his lew vest and white cravat and white
| flower. He was very fond of flowers and
knew almost as much about them as a
woman. But the old smile was absent
| from his face, and in the rear Car sat those
who loved him, weeping that he lay there
so cold and still. Through the little space
of glass that separates the living from the
dead, I looked long at his face after he
came am afraid I am not the typical
mourner to stand at the side Of a coffin.
Trusting all to an ALLOWING and all-pit5ing
Father, [ do not speculate much on where
the dead have gone, or on the religious
side Of their lives, the beliefs they held or
did not hold, but simply as those who have
moved on to another life. This man
was of my own age and as looked on his
quiet face my mind ran back over all cur
experiences together the many clever
things had heard him say; the bright
evenings we had spent together among
men who could make evenings both whole
some and bright; the sweetness of his life
in so many paths, and his loyalty to me.
For after all so intense is our egoism
ever in the presence of death, that loyalty
to ourselves makes the dead our own
more even than ties of blood. Still | could
not help observing that there was no poig-
nancy In my regret. 1t appeared to me
that for him the bell had merely rung the
closing hour, and he had laid down his
tools and quit work. His workmanship
had been good. there was nothing to re-
greet, and the time had only come when he
should take his rest. I have been to bis
grave often since. for loved him much;
but felt no grief. as for one who had been
defrauded of a single year that was his
own. There was no pain, hardly regret in
remembering him. Having done we'll that
which was his task here, he had passed on.
That was ALL
But when the young die all this seems
to be changed with me. Life is very beau
tiful in the young. Even an old man can
remember how the rainbow of youth look
ed, faded and dingy as the colors may be
to him now. Perhaps this is why the
death of the young touches him so; life is
such a toy it seems Sc hard that they could
not have had it,. None of us feel, while
standing by the graves Of the young who
die, that their lives have been in any sense
finished. With our human way of seeing
things we cannot help thinking that they
ought to have had chance and that they
have been deprived of something that be-
longed to them. After mans fashion,
suppose, we are all most touched by a
young girls death. Close sheltered by the |
family circle, she has hardly seen the edge |
of the world before she is called to rest in |
it's bosom. 1 sometimes think there are
no aspirations In the human mind SO !
sweet, SO visionary. SO fanciful, SO pure, as !
those which are stilled when young girls !
pulse ceases to beat. With what tender |
sympathy the old have heard them recited,
and with what plying incredulity. The
old do not leave many last memories be-
hind them; it is the fate of long life. But
how with this young girl? Her life has been